The Unexpected Gifts of Motherhood

It isn't always easy for me to blend out the noise from the outside. Lily is inching towards 17 months now and she sleeps in our bed, and only falls asleep with one of us present.
 
Sometimes I question whether it is necessary to "make it so hard" on us, when other mothers just walk out, close the door and their kids fall asleep in their cots, in their own rooms.
 
Sometimes I feel frustrated because she needs us - predominantly me - so much. Sometimes I am impatient and even take my frustration out on Lily when falling asleep takes more than an hour and I have to lie still next to her, pretending to be asleep, so she calms down.
 
Sometimes I just want to leave the room and let her scream because I am overwhelmed and mostly angry at myself that I cannot muster the eternal patience I envisioned myself to have as a mother. Or that I messed up the sleep patterns and she's just slipped out of the sleep window and I know I have to wait another 45 minutes before she will settle.
 
Sometimes I curse that she cannot play around happily in her cot next to our bed and gently fall asleep herself, but that we need to be there.
 
What I then usually start when I begin doubting the path we have chosen to pursue with her, is the "beshoulding". "It should be easier", "she should be able to fall asleep by herself", "I should be able to spend the evening with my husband instead of lying stupidly in the bed for an hour with her", "we should try out other things", etc. etc.
 
I've been reflecting a lot on these frustrating moments lately, and have found a method that works for me - definitely not all the time - but which eases the task a little: I see the time we spend together as a gift, rather than a duty.

Read More